Samantha and the Winchesters
by Dreaming in the Abyss
Summary: A young girl named Samantha wakes up in Bobby's house, reading books and chained to a bed. Her last memory? Sam throwing searing salt on her face and the rest is a blur. She works with the Winchesters to fight demons, recover her memories and figure out her place in this mess. But it seems that Sammy and Samantha are connected, the question is why? In-Progress, could take a while.
1. Books, a workout and a meeting

Samantha sat in the corner of her new bed, a mountain of pillows at her back, making it easier to curl her legs lightly near her chest. It was early morning, just as the sun was hitting the small square window at the far corner of the room she'd been given. Not really 'given', more 'assigned' or 'locked in'. Her mind was gently floating in the words of one of the books that Bobby had been kind enough to supply. Two large piles rested on the floor near the head of the beds frame; one for books she had managed to read and another for the ones the Winchesters didn't require immediately. The one she had been focused on for two days was a small hardcover book wrapped in a ribbon and happened to be the only non-demonic/non- magazine written work in the house. "The Tales of Dorothy Gale, After the Lights Go Out." A bit gory, but nevertheless; non-demonic. She attempted to turn the page with her right hand, only to almost rip it, which she had recently done with almost seven other novels she wished to read. She sighed, exasperated and then proceeded to turn the page with her non-handcuffed hand. Checking the part of the page near the spine wasn't torn, she silently forgave herself for forgetting her current situation, again. Making a mental note of what page she was up to, 66, she slipped a loose part of the bedsheet into the book, and placed it gently beside her.

Considering she hadn't slept in 47 hours, Sam stretched her arms and legs, and then leant over for the single butternut cookie on a china plate, left on the 'completed reading' pile. Even though no one trusted her, Bobby still visited her room when the others were out hunting. His house, he can do what he wants, plus he is also very aware that humans, especially girls have hygiene needs so he occasionally unlocked her for bathroom breaks. Plus it seemed that he likes to trade recipes and ask Samantha to taste test. That particular week was butternut cookies.  
_Soft and chewy, I like it. Perfect. _She thought._  
_She made a mental note to tell Bobby when she got a chance. Samantha then proceeded to stretch for a hair tie and conquer her thick, wavy hair into a ponytail, pulling certain parts out for a fringe. Her face was too round and she believed it looked hideous without a fringe. She then resumed doing what she had done for over two days; She curled herself up again, and began to read.

Every now and again, her ears twitched at the clamouring coming from downstairs. The Winchester Brothers and their friend were staying at Bobby's house for a couple of weeks. Sam didn't know who they were, she didn't know why they were staying, and she didn't understand why they were all so close. The only thing she remembers is seeing the extremely tall one with long hair, throw salt in her face; she began to burn, and fainted from the pain. Pots were scraping and cupboards were opening. A screen door slammed, and sets of boots stomped; two of them were off in the middle of the night again. "The family business" they called it. Sam didn't bother to scream. For one, she noticed they like their weapons, and two, it's not like the drug house she lived in was any better; here she gets free cookies. Samantha didn't care, and neither did her mother. So until the strange guys let her go or killed her; that bed is where she would stay.

Her reading, which she really wasn't involved in at the moment, was interrupted when a large man entered her room. It was the Brother with the long hair, and he was shirtless. Lucky for Samantha, he didn't notice her and took long stomping strides to the other end of the room. He set down a bottle of beer and a towel before stepping under the metal bar, secured to the ceiling. Samantha was the pure embodiment of shock_.  
Stop it Sammy._ She told herself. _He's like 35 or something, you're barely legal.  
_She sat silent in awe while he grunted and groaned, his muscles flexing as he did chin-ups with ease. Samantha's face caught a sly smile; If he was gonna see her when he walked out, she was gonna have some fun. Making sure not to disturb his… _workout_, she carefully lifted her body so she was resting on the back of her head and feet, then slowly, but surely, she removed her shorts and threw them on the floor in time with the tall ones rhythmic breaths. Samantha was glad that if she was gonna be kidnapped by anyone, it would be him; and it was. She quietly shifted herself and let her legs dangle off the side of the bed, sitting and leaning back so her body weight rested on her outstretched arms. It didn't matter how long it would take for him to notice, it wouldn't matter; the view was nice enough as it was. Samantha wasn't sure how long he was working out or how long she was staring but it was long enough to get them both very, _very_ sweaty.

The man took one last slow breath and gently lowered himself to the ground. Samantha puffed out her chest, and tried to look as appealing as possible in nothing but a silky red pyjama shirt and black underwear.  
_This is gonna be good._ She squealed inside her mind.  
He picked up his beer and took a few swigs, before wiping his face and neck clear of sweat with the towel. Beer and towel in hand, he turned, about to leave the room but suddenly froze when her noticed the teenage girl giggling at him. Samantha couldn't help but feel like she busted this guy. _Victory!_ He let out an awkward breath lined with laughter.  
He gently ran a hand through his hair, swung his hands around awkwardly and stuttered, obviously embarrassed, "Umm… Hi, errr… I'm *ahem* I'm… ummm, Sam! My name is Sam! Sam Winchester."  
Samantha stayed in her position swinging one leg over another and grinned, "Hi, I'm Samantha. I'd shake your hand but I'm a bit tied up at the moment," showing the handcuff attached to her wrist.  
They both exchanged another set of awkward smiles and laughs before she finally spoke again.  
"You wanna tell me why the hell you chained me to a bed?" She flirted with another smile.  
"Ummm, yeah! Right! Of course." He cleared his throat and grabbed a small stool from the corner. "Well, obviously, like I said, My name is Sam, my brother Dean is downstairs with our friend Castiel. We're umm. He's… Okay then, Dean and I are hunters. We hunt ghosts, vampires, demons, anything evil. And Cas, he's… an angel. He's with us. I'm gonna guess you've met Bobby."  
Samantha sat silent, the new information soaking in her brain, probably staring at Sam like he needed a strait jacket.  
Sam, the Winchester Sam, furrowed his brow worrisomely and continued, "We don't normally tell people what we do straight up but considering from the supplies we found in your backpack, we think that you know about demons." They both stopped and made eye contact for a moment. Then Sam hit Sam in the face with "The Tales of Dorothy Gale."


	2. Dare me?

He near fell flat on his back from the power of Samantha's throw and the beer bottle that he dropped when trying not to fall, shattered to pieces. He blinked a few times to regain his vision and questioned in a hurt tone, "What was that for?!"

Then teen girl widened her eyes at him in surprise and raised her voice, "What do you mean 'what was that for,' you kidnapped me and chained me to a bed; serves you right for getting hit in the face, you freaking moose."

Sam opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it and instead put his arm between his legs to bring the wooden stool forward. It was an arm's length away from the bed when he set himself down upon it again. He lent forward, resting his arms on his knees and spoke in a hushed but stern tone. "Do it again, and you might get shot. Not a salt round either."

Samantha clenched her teeth and looked him in the eyes. He wasn't joking. She pulled herself forward as far as possible, her right arm stretched along the bed connected by a hunk of metal, and provoked her captor, "Dare me?"

His eyes bore into her and, within a fleeting moment, leapt forward and pushed her back; clasping her left arm above her head and pressed his weight against her so she couldn't move. Both their heart-rates increased as Sam towered over the girl. She felt adrenaline seeping into her bloodstream and saw Sam's muscular chest rise and fall quicker above her breasts. He pushed down closer until their noses nearly touched. His lips parted, "Yeah… I dare you."

He lifted himself off of her and took a large step back. When she sat back up and regained her composure, he asked, "So… Do you remember anything?"

Samantha was not impressed with this guy, a little annoyed, in fact. But before she could answer, there was another man in a trench coat staring at her. She couldn't recall him standing there before and didn't hear him enter the room, which was strange because he didn't exactly blend in. Sam moved his head and sighed, "What'd you want, Cas?"

"Dean and I heard an alarming sound indicating that something was broken. Dean told me it was nothing but I was worried about the safety of the hostage." He replied, his voice gruff and strangely logical.

"Everything's fine. I just, broke a bottle." Sam replied, shifting his head to look back at Samantha.

Samantha looked from Castiel to Sam, and then back again, confused and a little terrified. This man's outfit was a little chaotic. Messed hair, messed suit, messed eyes. He accidently glanced down and Samantha recalled she wasn't wearing her shorts. She immediately blushed and looked down to her pile of books so she could hide her face. Castiel alternated between looking at Sam and Samantha while he questioned, "Where you, umm, in the middle of something private?" 


End file.
